


How About a Quick One?

by AirStank



Series: Motherfucker [3]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Desk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6947413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AirStank/pseuds/AirStank
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A straightforward Sole finds Sully Mathis' voice sexy. Sex happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How About a Quick One?

**Author's Note:**

> A Falloutkinkmeme prompt from a lovely reader of my other fics! :)
> 
> Dedicated to all those Garrus lovers out there.

The moon is bulbous and glowing, balancing on the skeletal tree line along the hills hugging the excavation site beyond Sully’s lounging body. His legs are spread lazily, his head tipped back against the rusted lounge chair, and a half empty Gwinnett lager sags precariously in his grip. His fourth lager of the night. Sully lifts his ass to retrieve his last pack of Sunlights, clamping a dry cigarette between his lips as he squints through the livid glow of his campfire to make out the figure approaching him. 

He can hear the slap of bare, wet feet from where he sits and the corner of his mouth curls up in a smirk as The Wastelander comes into view. He had never actually gotten her name; he had been too busy counting his lucky stars that some dolt had appeared out of the bushes with a hard on for getting his job done for him. Sully had been preparing to swim down to fix the pipes himself—but he didn’t tell _her_ that. Besides, she had talked him up in payment—125 fucking caps, to be exact—and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why he had let that fly. It must’ve been her voice; it’s timbre not unlike the smoke that was currently swirling in his lungs. 

The Wastelander approaches the fire, water still shining slick on her skin as she fixes her shadowy eyes on him. Her gaze flickers over his relaxed form and the empty bottles around him blankly, a thin eyebrow arching high on her forehead. They stare at one another for a long beat as the campfire cracks and spits heat up into the stars. 

“How’s that ‘lurk meat coming along?” She finally asks, hooking her foot around the leg of an empty lounge chair before dragging it to her. Sully watches her closely as she collapses back into the squeaking chair. She sighs blissfully as she leans back to prop her bare feet up to soak in the heat of the fire, her tongue running over her lips as she fidgets around to get comfortable. 

“It’s comin’.” He mumbles, waiting to catch her gaze before he holds up his lager in a silent offer. She nods, a smile threatening to show when he tosses her an unopened Gwinnett. “So… Where’d you learn to shoot like that? With the mirelurks, I mean.”

Her smile finally reveals itself and Sully is surprised by the calm heat it ignites in his gut. At least he supposes it _must_ be because of her—it could also simply be the saccharine buzz from his lager. They meet eyes over the licking flames between them, the look full of unsaid amusement from both sides, before she lets out a harsh laugh through her nose and shrugs. Sully’s eyes zero in on the lips that wrap around the neck of her lager, his stare narrowing faintly when he spots a flash of her tongue against the brown glass. “Practice makes perfect, is all I’ll tell.”

“Heh— _well_ … I’m not so sure _perfect_ is the right word.” He waggles his eyebrows at her when she fixes him with a mock-glare. “You held your own, I’ll give you that.”

“I could say the same for you, _Sully_.” She raises her bottle to him in a mocking sort of toast before taking a long draw of her drink. “Seems to me that the scrap here is of _dire_ importance. You know, for you to risk your neck like that with some mirelurks.”

“You’re pretty nosy.” He replies quickly with the slightest bite in his tone, nearly interrupting her, and she shrugs. 

“Yep, I’ve heard that one before.” Her toes curl before spreading out in a stretch. 

Sully can’t take his eyes off her with the warm fuzz of intoxication in his brain; the fog in his mind makes her glow in the firelight and seems to make her features appear softer than they actually are. The two of them remain silent for what must’ve been a few minutes but he can’t really focus—he’s suddenly got it in his head that he finds this woman attractive and that she hasn’t yet put her shirt on. She’s got her jeans rolled up to her knees and she’s wearing a thin white bra that is still wet from her diving escapade. Her body is something of a delicacy he realizes, not a type he’s ever seen in the wastes before—not counting ancient spank magazines that he collected as a kid. She’s got fat in places that women just don’t get in the Commonwealth. He wonders, as he takes a heavy swig of his lager, where she came from. A vault probably? 

Sully’s eyes wander along the softness of her belly and the unfair thick swell of her hips. He reaches up to scratch absently at his beard. He’s aware that he’s staring outright but his mind is too muddled to wonder whether or not she notices. He finally lets his gaze travel up to her eyes to find her staring hard at his face and her fingernails tapping audibly at the empty lager bottle in her hands. _Tink_ … _tink_ … _tink_ …

“What’re you looking at?” 

“You.” He grunts. 

Sully doesn’t dare break eye contact but he can still see the way her throat works slowly in a swallow, can also see her knees slightly parting. “Yeah?”

He narrows his eyes at her, working his index finger in a circle over the engraved glass of his bottle before gulping down the rest of his lager. Her eyes break from his stare to watch his hands. “Mhmm.” He hums deeply in response, taking advantage of being freed from her eyes to look at the shine of wetness on her bare shoulders. 

“I want another.” Sully looks up when she speaks and it takes him a shameful handful of seconds to realize that she’s talking about booze. He smiles, letting out a groan of fatigue as he bends awkwardly over his chair to retrieve the last bottle beside him. He hefts it in his hand, ready to toss it underhand to her before she speaks up again. “ _No_ … Walk over here and _hand it_ to me.”

Sully lets the demand sink in, lets it really seep into his brain as he stays frozen, staring across the flames of the campfire and into eyes that burn orange in the reflection of the heat before her. 

_Are we still just flirting_? He wants to ask. 

She raises a brow in question— _what’s taking you so long_?

Sully shrugs, as if she had actually asked him out loud, and stands up with an involuntary grunt. He stretches once he’s up, arching his back and breathing in deeply until a roll of pops scatters along his spine. He groans in relief, shaking a leg that tingles from prolonged inaction before taking the few steps it takes to reach her. He stands in front of her, painfully aware that her face is at crotch-level, before holding out the lager to her.  
She reaches out and wraps her hand around the tepid bottle but doesn’t take it from him. He looks down at the way their fingers overlap on the bottle and apparently that’s enough to make his cock twitch. 

“You know, Sully…” The Wastelander finally speaks, slow and with her tone drenched in delight. “You’ve got a real nice voice.”

 _Well_ … _That’s a first_. “Huh. You don’t say…” He cocks his head to the side with the beginnings of a grin on his lips. He tests the waters by rubbing his thumb along the back of her index finger. Her eyes look nearly black in the limited light of a Commonwealth night as she looks up at him while she leans forward. Sully holds his breath as he sees the shine of her wet tongue peek out from her mouth to trace along the length of his middle finger, slow and devastating.

“ _Oh shit_.” He breathes out. She laughs at him, settling back smugly in her chair after yanking the lager forcefully from his grip. Sully is left standing stupidly in front of her, a semi pressing uncomfortably into the zipper of his jeans as his breath comes out a bit ragged. He stares hard at her, taking in the way she eyes him up and down like he’s something that needs to be devoured. “You aren’t playing around, huh?”

“I never play around.” She answers firmly, giving him a wink before turning her eyes down to the pipboy on her arm. “Listen, Sully… I’ve got places to be, and _soon_ —but I also want to get laid. You up for it?”

Sully feels his brow rise high enough nearly to touch his hat, his mouth bobbing open for a few long moments before he lets out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “You’re shittin’ me, right?”

The Wastelander stands up abruptly and stares hard into his eyes, crossing her arms over her nearly bare chest as she turns her nose up a bit at him. She takes a step forward, bringing her face a mere few inches away from his, before a slow, wide smile spreads across her face. 

“You know… I spotted a pretty sturdy looking desk in that building over there.” Sully’s eyes flick quickly to where she gestures, his heart beginning to pound when he feels her finger poke into his chest. “You know—where _your terminal_ is.”

His eyes snap back to hers, a little roll of panic and surprise shifting around in his guts at the implication in her words. Her smile—wicked and sharp—only grows at his reaction as she presses her fingernail into his chest, hard enough to sting. “Yeah, I know where that is.” Is all he can manage through the heavy swallow that forcibly works in his throat. 

“ _Perfect_.” She leans her head to the side as she looks up at him, her eyes gleaming with something a bit unsettling as she lets out a tinkling chuckle. “So, since we understand each other, why don’t _you_ bend me over that desk for a quick one?”

Sully finds that he had been staring so hard into the woman’s eyes that he couldn’t follow her when she finally slinked away from him. His eyes were stuck staring at the chair where she once sat, dumbstruck and unable to process this bizarre turn of events. 

_Is this a trap_? He thinks, paranoid, as he stares unblinking at the… chair. Finally he shakes his head, nearly dislodging his hat as he gets a burning twinge of whiplash from how hard he turns to look after The Wastelander. She walks with rolling hips—probably intentional—but his alcohol addled mind can’t grasp at her deception. 

He nearly sprints to catch up with her, finally meeting her in the entryway of the small building. Sully crashes into the woman from behind, pressing his erection into the curve of her ass and gripping both of her biceps in his hands for the leverage to crush her back against him. She lets out a sound that’s halfway between a squeak of surprise and a moan of excitement as they both walk clumsily across the space of the room until the front of her thighs connect with the desk. The terminal shakes precariously as Sully presses the woman into the desk, his teeth pinching her neck as he reaches a hand down the front of her stomach—pausing to give the sweet, soft flesh there a squeeze—before sliding his hand down to the zipper of her jeans. 

“ _Jesus_.” Sully groans, voice strained and still managing to sound disbelieving of his luck even as the woman pushes her ass back hard to grind against him. “Who the hell are you, sweetheart?”

“No one.” Her voice is sleazy with held back laughter and breathless as he yanks her jeans down low enough to wiggle his hand down the front of her underwear to touch her. “Absolutely no one.”

“Oh—fuck _me_.” He groans low into her hair, rocking her against the desk with a snap of his hips. “Christ honey, you are so _wet_ —when did that happen, huh?”

She barks out a laugh, hard yet wavering when he sinks two fingers inside her. “Your voice.” Is all she gives him, arching her back to mold herself more tightly against him.

Sully pauses at that, burying his nose into the hair tucked behind her ear, letting her words sweep through the cobwebs in his drunken mind before a small, quiet laughs puffs hotly along her neck. “My _voice_ gets you wet?” He rumbles as he curls his fingers inside her.

His eyes widen at her instant reaction, a cry falling from her lips and her arms reaching back to grasp at the back of his neck as she begins to breathe hard. “ _Yes_ —oh yes it does.”

A grin splits Sully’s face as his free hand slides up along her side from where it had been resting at her hip. He grips her breast in his hand as he continues to curl and stroke his fingers inside her. “Get my zipper—my hands are full.” He tells her, giving her breast a squeeze for emphasis. 

The Wastelander has Sully’s pants unzipped and his cock out in what must be record time, giving a filthy giggle of approval at the feel of him before she slaps away the hands that grope her. “Come on, Sully, I’m on a tight schedule.” 

“Right.” He lets out a rattled breath and gives the fingers that were inside her a quick lick. He hums out a sound of approval at the taste of her before gripping his dick and stroking it while he presses his palm against her lower back. “Bend over.”

The woman lets out an airy laugh and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sure thing.” She stretches out over the top of the desk, wiggling her bare ass back at him and turning her head to the side in order to watch him. “Keep the hat on, Sully.”

“Whatever you say.” He smiles, bracing a hand with a steady grip on her shoulder while he presses down on her lower spine with his other one. It takes a moment to line up, and yet another to properly aim without the help of his hands—and during this time she makes a comment about taking his hat as a trophy—before he is pushing inside her. They groan in unison—that first thrust is always the sweetest and the _second_ most satisfying—before he begins to rock against her. 

“How’s that feel, sweetheart?” He grunts at the feel of her cunt tightening around him at the sound of his voice. _Shit, she wasn’t kidding_. 

“Like _sweet_ relief.” She breathes out, voice muffled against the desk top as she turns an eye back at him. “Tell me how I feel, please. I want to hear you.”

The pleading in her voice is enough to send his head lolling back, eyes screwed tightly shut as he breaks his steady rhythm momentarily to rock her with a few jarring thrusts. “ _Hot_ , Jesus… You feel hot as all fuck.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes!” He hisses, thrusting into her with building speed as she begins to keen highly. “And—and you’re tight… and you keep squeezing me—oh _fuck_!”

“Like that?” She sneers at him, her muscles clenching very abruptly on his cock, sending him reeling.

“I’m not gonna last much longer.” He confesses, taking his hand from her back and gripping her hip to gain some purchase for deeper thrusts.

“Come on, Sully.” She whines as the desk shakes dangerously, winding her hips in fast, tiny circles back against him as his balls begin to tingle and tighten. “Hurry it up!”

Her demand is, weirdly enough, what does it for him. He scrambles to pull out of her, barely out before he starts coming down her thigh, the breath leaving his lungs in a loud groan that has her humming in approval. 

Sully squeezes her hip as he tries desperately to catch his breath, his eyes squeezed shut until he hears her breathing begin to quicken. Sully looks down at her, gulping hard when he sees that she has worked a hand between her stomach and the desk and is rubbing her fingers quickly against her clit. 

He doesn’t hesitate to fall to his knees in front of her, pushing her hand away to press his face into the precious place between the generous flesh of her thighs. It takes some maneuvering but he manages to work two of his fingers inside her as his tongue swirls around her desperately, not understanding the frantic need that he has to please her—but not able to deny it. It doesn’t take her long either, to his surprise, and when she comes she reaches a hand back to push at the back of his head until his face is buried against her. 

He falls back onto his ass when she releases him, breathing hard and flexing his sore wrist as she reaches down to pull her jeans up over her ass. He watches the way she bounces around to get the fabric up and over her body before sucking in her stomach to zip up the tight pants.

“Well, Sully, that was just what I needed.” She smiles down at him, wiggling the band of her bra to rein her breasts back into the cups. 

“You’re… welcome?” He pants, wincing when she snatches the hat off of his head before he can react. Sully frowns as she places it on her head, askew and nearly big enough to fall over her eyes. He turns his head to watch her as she makes her way towards the door, his frown deepening as the alcohol begins to catch up with his sense of balance. “Wait, that’s it? You’re leaving?”

“Yup, I’ve got places to be, remember?” The Wastelander pauses, her back facing him before turning her head over her shoulder to fix him with a hardened smirk. “Oh, and Sully?”

She squints her eyes at him, glancing pointedly over at his terminal before giving him an unnervingly sugary sweet smile. “Don’t do anything _I_ wouldn’t do with the _scrap_ you have here."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! <3 :)


End file.
